


The Visit

by TWriter



Series: To Fall or To Fly [1]
Category: Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Brothers, Canon Typical Violence, Canon typical injuries, Gen, serious talk time, vague mentions of suicidal thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 18:58:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5638213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TWriter/pseuds/TWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick receives a late-night visit from Tim. Tim is concerned.</p><p>This is a prequel of sorts to my first work, The Video. The order you read them in doesn't matter, but there will be a couple stories in between.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Visit

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sort of prequel to my other story, The Video. I plan to show how the characters got to that point in a series of short stories. This is where it all begins.
> 
> I am honestly not sure of ages, I am awful at keeping track of canon ages. Dick is in his twenties, Tim is in his teens.

Dick couldn’t remember the last time he found it so difficult to focus.  
In the dim light of early morning, he stripped out of his Nightwing costume, dropping it into a pile in his closet. He would pick it up later, but for now he couldn’t be bothered.  
He pulled on a pair of pajama pants, not bothering to shower. He would take one after a quick nap. He lay face down on his bed, allowing sleep to take hold.  
He dreamt of Two-Face, for the first time in a while. He had thought he had left that particular demon in Gotham, where he belonged, but it seemed the dreams had managed to find him a city away. He dreamt of their first meeting, back when he first became Robin. He found himself, once again, facing the decision: Batman or Judge Watkins? His mentor or an innocent civilian? He dreamt that he chose wrong, that both died, that he died as well. It was, disturbingly, peaceful. That in itself was the nightmare. He woke with a start, slowly drifting to sleep again. His last thought was of the files on his computer and the box in his closet. He wondered if his subconscious was trying to tell him it was time to use them.  
Dick woke to the sound of his bedroom door opening. He knew the apartment had been empty when he had gotten back, and he had locked each lock behind him, so there were very few individuals that would be able to make it inside without knocking.  
“You look like you had a productive night,” said Tim. Dick rolled over to look up at his younger adopted brother.  
“Don’t you knock?”  
“Bats never knock. And neither do Robins. We just let ourselves in.”  
“Well, the Nightwings of the world would like it so much if the Robins would announce their presence, instead of sneaking in while the former was sleeping.”  
“Are you sure you willingly went to sleep? Judging by some of your bruises, you should be unconscious,” said Tim, looking down at his brother, who hadn’t moved. He took a step closer, the better to see the greens and yellows and blues that made up the bruising on Nightwing’s back.  
“No worries, just a little bruise.”  
“Dick, your skin is purpler than it is skin-colored.”  
“It’s fine, Tim.”  
“What happened, anyway? Someone get pissy?”  
“Nothing. I…tripped.” Even as he said it, he knew Tim wouldn’t buy it.  
“You tripped? Or someone forced you to fall over?”  
“I mean, not over so much as off…” Dick sighed, knowing that there was no point in hiding it anymore. “Someone managed to sneak up on me and cut my grapple line. I fell from the top of a building, broke my fall somewhat on a fire escape, and landed in a dumpster. You happy?” He scowled, finally raising his head from its place on the pillow.  
“And you’re not concerned by the possible broken ribs and concussion and who know what else why?”  
“Not worth the trouble. I’ve had worse.”  
“Well, sure; we all have. But you don’t ignore a broken leg because it hurts less than the time you were shot.”  
“Sure you do. Pain’s relative.”  
“You’re insane.”  
“Probably. So, as much as I love a good lecture from baby bird, to what do I owe the pleasure? I assume this isn’t a social call.”  
“I suppose not. I just wanted to check on you, that’s all.”  
“Why?”  
“I had a funny feeling, that’s all.”  
Dick stared at his brother, looking mildly amused. “Sure thing. Well, I’m alive. Slightly bruised, otherwise fine.”  
“You sure?”  
“I’m probably the best source you could have for that, little bro.”  
“Well, if you’re sure…” Tim looked at his brother uncertainly, as if waiting for the latter to tell him to leave.  
“Timmy, are you all right? You’re acting strange. Stranger than normal.”  
“I dunno, I just had a really weird feeling. I hadn’t talked to you in a while, and I was worried. You’re kind of shut off lately, almost like you want nothing to do with us.”  
“Aw, Tim. Come here.” Groaning, Dick lifted himself from the bed, making a space for Red Robin to sit. “I love you guys. You know that. I’ve just been busy.” For the second time that night, Dick winced at the fake sounding reasoning. This time, Tim didn’t question it.  
“I know, I just…I don’t know. I was a bit worried. You do this thing sometimes, I don’t know if it’s on purpose, but you just push us all away. Then you come around again, and you seem so happy that I don’t question the previous weeks. And then the cycle repeats.”  
“Timmy.” Dick paused, unsure how to argue against a pattern he knew to be true. “I swear, there is nothing wrong. At all. I am fine.” Even he could hear the lie.  
Tim didn’t respond. He sat, leaning against his older brother, silence weighing them down. After several minutes, Tim finally said, “Would you at least please come to the manor and let Alfred patch you up? You look like death.”  
Dick sighed. “Sure, Tim. Let’s go.”  
If he really was ready, it would have to wait another night.


End file.
